Harry Potter and the Fight for Unity
by Couch Potato
Summary: Harry wakes one morning to find himself in a different body… and in a different universe! As he starts his journey in this foreign place, he has to team up with his old friends. But how can they work together when they think he's just a monster?
1. New Places, New Faces

Hallo again. I am here, I am alive, I am... well, relatively healthy. If you care for such things. Now... I know I have all but failed to keep my stories going, life has been... well, hectic, to say in the least. But I am back now! I will be continuing my other stories, but my mind started cooking up this idea, so I thought I'd get it out of my head before it completely sidetracked me.

Disclaimer: me? Yeah, poor. My life savings consists of 4.68 dollars in my bank account. Thus we can assume that I do not own Harry Potter, or anything to do with Harry Potter in any way shape or form. I also do not own anything that has to do with Chrono Cross. Sorry to disappoint, I just... write. Occasionally. When I can.

That's all besides the point, though, isn't it? Now, you do not have to know much, or even anything, about Chrono Cross to understand the story. Because, really... it has not much to do with the game, I was just playing it and this whole thing came to me. This idea was inspired by the game, hence the disclaimer, but... just parts. Concepts. Abstractions. Whatever you will.

And if that didn't make any sense, I apologize. My mind is sort of a disarray as of late. Enough of that though, right? Story time!

* * *

To say Harry Potter was a normal boy would be something akin to saying the arctic is a sauna. To say that Harry Potter was a very lucky normal boy would... well, let's just say they were more accurate with the whole 'The Earth is Flat' theory.

To say that Harry Potter was a very unusual sort of boy would be, perhaps, more accurate than anyone could ever imagine.

You see, as if being a wizard was not abnormal enough (though it really isn't so abnormal in the long run, what when there's a whole society of them out there) he was not even considered to be a normal wizard. At the tender age of one, his parents were killed by a mad man out for his life. From that point on, little Harry Potter lived in a cupboard under the stairs. When he found out he was a wizard, he was ecstatic. A world where he belonged!

Alas, as far as stuff goes in Harry Potter's life, he does not find himself belonging many places. In fact, if there was such a thing as karma, Harry frequently mused who he had pissed off in a prior life.

Perhaps we should start at the beginning, yes?

The summer after his fifth year was a quiet one, depressingly so. Left estranged from his friends, and even his muggle relatives, he found much contentment sulking in his pathetic excuse of a room located within the confines of Number Four, Privet Drive. Hardly more than a month into the break, he was sufficiently bored. His aunt and uncle had decided to forgo formalities, as often was the case, and simply laid down the rules the moment he stepped foot into the house.

1) Stay out of the way. This was a rule Harry was far too used to at this point in his life, and he found no qualms against it.

2) Do not set foot outside. Harry greatly resented this rule, but after the prior summer he saw much of the logic behind it. Though strongly opposed, he reluctantly agreed.

3) Do not contact your freakish friends. After the events at the end of the school year, Harry had no problem with this one. He simply wasn't ready to deal with anyone from school at the moment, not after his mistakes.

As one could imagine, this led to a very plain and boring summer. Room bound and fidgety, Harry had spent the last few weeks reviewing his school materials, for lack of anything better. His summer assignments were done, and he had moved onto reviewing years one through four. This, however, was a tedious task at best.

Harry Potter was officially tired of reading. He was tired of school, friends, relatives, of life in general. This is the predicament which found him looking forlornly out of his tiny window, up at the stars speckled through the night sky above him, wishing to be whisked away from this torture.

Too bad no one told him to be careful what you wish for. Mere moments after he had finally fallen into a restless sleep on the small cot in the corner of his room, glittering light filtered its way through the window, circling the boy on the bed.

The bright substance sunk into the boy's skin, producing a white glowing hue, as the glitter circled faster and faster. The bed beneath him pulsed, glowing neon green. The boy slowly sunk into the portal, until only his head remained afloat. Seconds later that too submerged, and the lights disappeared. With it went one Harry James Potter, asleep and ignorant.

Privet Drive was back to normal, its occupants unsuspecting and unaware of the monumental event that had just happened.

_One Fine Morning, Two Days Later:_

Harry blinked tiredly, stretching himself leisurely across the soft grass he was resting on. As the fact settled into his brain, that alone was what made him pause. He shot up, looking around frantically.

He sat on the top of a hill, trees to his back, sun beating down on his face. Below him, in the far distance stretched hundreds of miles away loomed the familiar structure he recognized as Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He blinked, shaking his head before brushing a hand across his forehead.

_Where am I?_ he thought, looking around. Slowly he climbed to his feet, feeling disoriented. He took a step forward, only to trip and start rolling down the hill. Groaning he looked to the very blue sky, sore, before sitting back up, looking down at his feet.

They were clothed in huge black boots, and he tilted his head, studying them.

_Either I've really been out of it lately, or my feet grew ten sizes over night. Then again,_ he continued, as his eyes traveled up his legs, _I don't think that's the traditional skin color. And, come to think of it... my legs are huge too._

The observation was a confusing one, as he clambered to his feet and stumbled away again. After a solid half hour of stumbling through the woods, tripping over logs and rocks, ducking branches, he found a small, murky pond. He looked down at his reflection, startled. His night clothes had been replaced with a pair of well worn, cut off shorts, and his chest was scantly covered, save a ragged shirt torn at one shoulder. At his waist sat a large stone axe, and Harry would be hard pressed to believe that even Hagrid could lift it.

The once hardly average height, emaciated looking boy was gone. In place was an imposing figure, well over seven feet tall, if he had to guess, and up near five hundred pounds. He wasn't fat, or overweight, just... big. His skin was a sickly gray with ripples along the surface, as if massively scarred. His eyes, once vibrant and green, were a blood red, set under thick violet-black brows contrasting with his otherwise hairless head. His lips were an inky black and his ears were topped with jagged points.

He gapped at his reflection, eyes widening at the row of sharply angled white teeth revealed. Throwing himself backwards he stumbled yet again, landing on his back. He sat up, holding his hands in front of his face in shock. Black claws sat where his nails had used to. Like the rest of this foreign body, his hands were scarred.

"WHAT HAPPENED?" he shouted up to the air. He almost fainted when it was emitted as a menacing growl.

_What the-?_

His mind backtracked frantically, as he fumbled for an explanation.

_I was at the Dursley's, yes, so... that makes no sense. No one would have poisoned me, or cursed me. Nor would they have been able to get me to the Black Forest, which is not quite as dark as everyone says, clearly._

Harry searched his head, trying to remember what he had done the night before.

_Okay, so there was that horrible pasta bake that Aunt Petunia tried to make me eat. Then I had to clean up after Dudley trashed the kitchen. Then I went to my room to broad, which seems to be my favorite past time this summer. I was looking at the stars and then I went to bed._

No contact with anyone outside of his relatives. He swung his hands along the ground in frustration, scattering pebbles, leaves, sticks, and mud. A mild laughter reached his ears, and he spun around to see-

_Me?_

That wasn't an entirely accurate observation, though. The boy in front of him was clearly Harry Potter, but... different. Jet black hair, ear length long, was semi-tamed, and his green eyes held much amusement, no longer hidden behind thick, black glasses. The Not-Harry was dressed in loose legged, cream pants and a light, airy cream colored t-shirt, with an emerald dragon hide vest and matching leg guards on either thigh. His hands and feet were covered with finger less dragon hide gloves and similar boots.

What caught his attention most, though, was the staff. The same height as the boy, a measly 5'5'', it was made of a prism material. At the top, amidst a prism frame, sat a single emerald, glowing and enchanting.

"Boy, they were right when they said you're a funny one," Not-Harry said, leaning easily against a tree.

"Who are you? Where am I? Why am I like this?"

"Direct one, aren't you? I know you recognize me, and your surroundings. That last bit is the one you should be worried about."

Harry glared, figuring it was a spectacular site given his appearance, but had to agree.

"I do, but... at the same time I don't."

Not-Harry bowed his head in a nod.

"Now we're getting somewhere. You know what they say, denial-"

"Is the first stage to admitting you have a problem, yeah, yeah. But I'm not in denial am I?"

Not-Harry raised one elegantly shaped eyebrow.

"Aren't you?"

Harry growled, climbing clumsily to his feet.

"Are you here to help me or to taunt me?"

Not-Harry lost all traces of amusement, now serious.

"That, Harry Potter, is up to you to decide."

_What is with the riddles?_

"Okay, so you're me, sorta, in body, but who are you in, er... spirit?"

Green eyes twinkled back at him, and Not-Harry grinned.

"Now we are getting somewhere."

Harry crossed his massive arms, creating a daunting picture.

"I am a physical manifestation of the one you call Merlin."

Harry rolled his eyes.

"Okay, for real now?"

Not-Harry smiled, amused at the response.

"See, you stand there like that, and yet you have troubles believing what _I_ say?"

Harry let his arms drop to his sides as both massive shoulders slumped.

"Okay, so you're Merlin? Why do you look like me? And why am I here?"

"You, Harry Potter, are here because you wished to be here."

Harry looked at his body in confusion.

"No I didn't."

Not-Harry nodding, disagreeing.

"But you did. Two nights ago at approximately 11:11PM you made a wish upon a star to be freed from your life. Even the Fates have rules to follow, if you must know. So they took you away from the tragedies of your past self."

"But... I didn't actually-"

"A wish is still a wish. Once acted upon, it cannot be undone. Do they not teach you anything in your school?"

Harry shrugged.

"Your guess is as good as mine," he admitted. It wasn't like he paid attention all too often during lessons. "Why are you here?"

"The myth that I now am to the world, I have thusly been appointed Fates' messenger boy. Quite simply: I am here to guide you. After this conversation, it will be much more down played, hints and nudges essentially. You see, someone along the way decided that it would be more appropriate to first appear to you as a familiar figure. For formalities sake."

Harry nodded slowly.

"But... you're not really familiar. You're me, yeah, but you're not how I am."

"On the contrary. You, Harry Potter, do not exist in this world. As such, the Fates have to totally reconstruct a new body for you." Not-Harry motioned with his free hand down his slight form. "You will be very similar to your old self, size wise, but the appearance is something that has been altered slightly. This world is a bit different from your old one. Wizards and Witches still use wands generally, yes, but that is a weapon that cannot be dimensionally transmuted, due to its innate nature."

Not-Harry cleared his throat, obviously preparing for a lecture.

"As you may or, as I suspect, may not know, wands are not magical on their own. If one lays it upon the ground, it will remain there, void of any use. No, wands serve as a magical focus for Wizards and Witches. This is possible through their cores. Your old core was a Phoenix feather, if I was not ill informed, correct?"

Harry nodded.

"Cores themselves are the power in a wand. The wood, Holly in your case, is the shell for it, protecting it from damage. The old man selling them, Ollieanders'?"

"Ollivander's."

"Right, Ollivander's, I believe he says that it's the wand that chooses the wizard?"

Harry nodded again.

"That is because cores, dragon heartstring, unicorn hairs, phoenix feathers, are all temperamental by nature. If you put the wrong wand with the wrong person the results are less than desired, as I'm sure you remember."

Harry winced, thinking back to the number of accidents that had occurred when he went to buy his wand.

"In this same aspect, once a wand has adapted itself to its wielder, it becomes stubborn to any outside magic. Another Witch or Wizard, perhaps, would have great difficulties using it. Similarly, as it would with another Witch or Wizard, it rejects any additional outside influences. It's all a very complicated process to get the wand across dimensions, and neigh impossible to have the foci to remain fully functioning."

Harry narrowed his eyes.

"Just how many people have you done this to?"

Not-Harry grinned.

"Oh, not many, I assure you, maybe a couple dozen throughout the span of Mother Earth. We however did learn this very early on. The staff?" Not-Harry twirled the beautiful piece of craftsmanship expertly in one hand. "Will be your new wand. The emerald will be your foci, you do know that crystals are one of the best magical conductors known to existence? No, I should have guessed not. The rest of the staff is a very appropriate physical weapon. It is resistant to every sort of damage, and it will be attuned to your blood. It will work for you and only you, at the same time it will accept you and only you. Few, if any, will be able to touch it, aside from yourself, without suffering repercussions."

Harry sighed, his head hurting from the overload of information.

"Okay, so I get that part, I guess. Now, why am I like this? And why would I need an... appropriate... physical weapon?"

Not-Harry smiled.

"Well, you remember what I said, about Fates having their own rules to follow?" At the nod, Not-Harry continued. "Yes, well, at the same time it's a very vague guideline. You made a wish, due to circumstances they had to obey it, yadda ya, yadda ya... how or what they decide to do with you is their own choice."

Harry looked confused, and Not-Harry continued.

"The Fates took you from your world, as you wished, and they plopped you down right here in this one. Well, I suppose right over there, in this one." Not-Harry amended, motioning with the staff where Harry had traveled from. "Though similar to your old one, it is very different. Witches and Wizards live in harmony with non-magical humans, Muggles as you know them, the numbers are all rather evened out. Hogwarts does exists as a school, magical children do have to learn still, but it is not quite as hidden as it is in your world. Though it is still well known, there are many schools speckled all over the world teaching the same things."

Harry stared at the figure in silent, mulling over the information. Not-Harry took this as a sign to continue.

"You may be happy to know that there are no Dark Lords or evil wizards. There is, however, still a war at large. It stands between the non-human population, your current self, and the human population, magical and non-magical alike. Now, it is not a traditional sort of war, more like that Cold War between the United States and the Soviet Union. Very stand-of-ish, and the danger is very much there, but it is still more of a passive fight.

You see, the Fates need time to make your body, so they found a temporary one until their work is done. Don't bother asking, I have no idea when that will be. Fabricating bodies is lengthy and time consuming work, and the Fates do have their own schedules to attend to. Now, once again, as you may or may not know, non-humans have their own natural magic. Both sides are very untrusting and volatile towards each other, and what they need is a mediator. That is where you come in."

"Me? But... how?"

"Well, aside from your physical appearance, you are, in essence, still a human. You think and behave as a human. The Fates put you in a non-human body for that reason. It will be difficult to accomplish your task, but as a non-human you shall find yourself relating to your counterparts. Your job, from this point on, is to make connections. You need followers of both the human and non-human populations. This will not be easy in any means, but it is your task. You were put here to accomplish this, and you will have no life if you chose to run from your duties."

Harry closed his eyes, suddenly tired.

"So, what you're saying is... I'm like this. Humans are going to hate me, non-humans will accept me, but I need both of them behind me?"

"In essence," Not-Harry agreed.

"And I have a weapon why? Magic won't be enough?"

Not-Harry bowed his head slightly.

"Most non-human creatures can fight magic with their own magic, as different as it may be. Physical altercations will occur; it is still a war after all. In those times, magic alone will not suffice. The Fates have decided to provide a weapon for this reason. Your current form, you know how to use that battle axe at your hip?"

Harry looked down at said weapon, images flashing through his mind. He looked back up in surprise.

"Yeah. It's like... I have years of training behind me."

Not-Harry nodded.

"Yes, it will be similar when you get your body. The Fates will take the liberty of adding new and essential information; they are not going to simply give you a weapon for you to fight with, without any preparation."

Harry nodded, before he narrowed his eyes at the humanoid being.

"You're leaving something out," he observed smartly. Not-Harry shifted.

"Yes. Yes I am. That, however, is for you to find out on your own. I was only sent here to inform you."

"So I'm stuck like this until I get my body back?"

"I am afraid so. You have a long road ahead of you."

"I don't even know where to start."

"There are many hidden colonies of non-human creatures in the world. Several of which reside in this forest alone. They will take you in until you can adapt to your new body. From then what you decide to do is your own."

Harry frowned.

"How will I get to my body when it's done?"

Not-Harry smiled mysteriously.

"Don't worry young one. You will know when and how when the time comes."

"Well... can you at least tell me what I am?"

Not-Harry frowned.

"Well, to be honest... I am not quite sure myself. Perhaps a new species, they are always popping up at random. As I said, this is quite different from the world you are used to."

"Is that all?"

Not-Harry smiled again.

"Is it?"

"Well what else is there to cover?" Harry retorted.

Not-Harry nodded.

"So it is. I leave you here."

"What, just like that?!" Harry shouted.

The tree, where Not-Harry stood mere moments prior, was person less. Harry spun around, looking in every which direction.

He was alone once again.

* * *

Oh my gosh, I'm so excited for this now! I was a bit... I guess lost on how to start it, but as I forced myself to write ideas just started rushing forward. I can't wait... any feedback for me? Please?


	2. Yes It's Odd

Hilo. I have more for you, right here. Exciting, innit? Sure, sure it is.

Note - Sorry, but I realized just how much I have planned for this story is actually based off, or inspired by, Chrono Cross. Hence, the Disclaimer on it (see chapter one). Everything that needs to be explained in the story will be, so it's really not necessary to know the storyline of the game or such, but there are many similarities, faint and strong, that tie back to it. Just wanted to clear that up for anyone. And I may have stolen some names. Bad me.

* * *

Harry glared at his offending feet as he trudged through the woods aimlessly. He had finally started to get used to being so much bigger, at least enough so that he could walk normally, though he still felt a bit off balanced.

_I don't know if I like being this big,_ he sulked. While it was nice to be able to see without aid, his eyesight was actually better than it had ever been before in his life, he was still at a loss of what he was looking for.

_These colonies hide themselves very well, _he thought. _Though it doesn't help that I don't know what signs to look for._

Harry let out a ragged sigh, shuddering at his new voice. It was deep and ragged... more of an animalistic growl really. He decided to stop for a break, leaning against a tree near him.

_Well, I could definitely beat Hagrid in a battle of size. Strength too, _Harry mused with a huff. He paused at that thought. _I wonder if he's still on the human side. He is pretty human... just real big._

With another sigh, he scuffed up the ground with one large booted foot.

_What now?_

He lightly kicked a rock nearby, surprised as it was launched nearly fifty feet away before it disappeared into the trees with a loud thud.

Well damn.

There was a rustle to the side, picked up by his keen sense of hearing, and his head whipped around. He was on alert faster than one would expect from his inexperience, axe in hand.

"Lower your weapon, friend. We come with good tidings," the centaur said, emerging from a line of trees. Harry complied, lowering the axe, though he kept it in his hand. The creature was faintly familiar, the top of his head coming just shy of Harry's elbows. The wizard struggled with a name.

"I am Bane, one of many centaurs who reside in these woods. I heard a commotion, and came to check on it. You are new," Bane, as Harry's memory was triggered, observed.

"I am," Harry agreed. "I'm in search of shelter. Not for a long time... only a few days, perhaps. Maybe a week or so, at most."

Bane smiled.

"We can help you with that," he informed Harry. Though hesitant, remembering their last encounter, Harry decided to take 'Merlin's' advice to heart.

"I would be very appreciative of your generosity," he thanked as the centaur smiled.

"I am pleased to hear that. If you will? Our hunt has been very successful."

_I feel so barbaric, _Harry thought as he followed the centaur, who led him back to a small group of creatures. Another centaur, two griffins, a Minotaur, and one stout goblin riding on, Harry mentally laughed, a mini-pony, made up the hunting pack. The centaurs and goblins had bows, but Harry much doubted the other three needed such weapons to help them kill.

"Friends, I have found a new creature seeking refuge for a brief period of time," Bane introduced Harry to the group. "I do not believe I got your name," Bane said politely, turning back to his newest companion.

"Harry," he greeted, before pausing to think what sort of picture that was.

_A massively freaky person named Harry?_

The creatures seemed to not notice the dilemma, and they went right ahead to introduce themselves.

"I am Atreyu," the other centaur informed Harry. Despite his half human nature, he had an elegant air to him. The griffins both nodded, chiming.

"Greco," came the bell like voice of one griffin with rust colored feathers.

"Zappa," the other one said at the same time, ebony feathers glinting in the sun.

Harry looked down at the creatures, surprised. They were relatively normal names, all things considered.

"I am called Griphook," the goblin introduced with what could have been a smile. Harry thought it was more of a grimace, but did a double take nonetheless. It was, indeed, the same goblin he remembered from his first year.

The Minotaur put on hoofed foot forward, emitting a gruff breath. "My name is Brookshire," he said in the same gruff manner. He was big, the tip of his horns falling even with Harry's shoulders. While normally imposing, Harry found he was merely surprised as opposed to daunted. He did easily outsize the beast after all.

"Come friends, we should return with our feast," Bane said importantly. Harry then noticed the three deer and two moose on the ground.

Brookshire picked up one moose by himself, slinging it easily over one shoulder. Between the two griffins and two centaurs the deer were taken care of, leaving one last moose. It was the biggest one, a full grown bull moose, easily near Harry's own weight in size.

"Friend, I'm afraid none of us would be able to lift it. If you would please?"

Harry looked down at the dead animal with a slight grimace, but nodded.

_What the hell, right? I suppose everyone has to do some work here,_ he decided finally. He reached down, using one hand to grab the front legs and one to grab the back, heaving the weight easily off the ground, over his shoulders, and onto his back. It felt light, like picking up a large cat. Or perhaps, in any case, Crookshanks.

"Let us go then," the centaur continued, taking off. It was an easy pace to keep, a fast walk.

"It is the summer solstice tonight," Brookshire said, falling back next to Harry. "All of the communities in the Black Forest get together four times a year, at the solstices. There is a big celebration; it's a very festive time for us."

Harry looked over at the Minotaur, interested.

"And this will feed everyone?"

The half-bull laughed.

"Not nearly. Our camp alone holds many hunting parties. We are just one of several. It is our year to host the celebrations."

Harry nodded.

"So the preparations fall to this clan?"

Brookshire glanced sideways at Harry.

"Yes. Just for this, we set up many more hunts. Everyone who can work helps in some way."

"It must be very important."

Brookshire gave a gruff laugh.

"Well, it is tradition in any way."

"Are you just a hunter?"

The hybrid glanced at the moose on his shoulder.

"Many creatures have many different responsibilities. Which also depends on their outlook."

"Outlook?"

The beast nodded.

"In regards to the war. There are some very passionate about it. Others, like me, have more of a pacifistic view. We only fight to defend ourselves."

Harry was struck with a realization by those words. _They're just like humans, psychologically at least. Some believe in war, others don't. But no one will rise above it, for fear of being ostracized. _He gave a small grin at the thought, before it disappeared. _My job is to change that? I have my work cut out for me._

"You don't approve of the war?" Harry asked.

"I understand it, but it could be done differently. Violence in response to violence only yields more violence. It will never end if people don't stop fighting."

Harry nodded solemnly.

"Too true."

Brookshire's dark brown eyes met Harry's blood red ones. He looked ready to continue when a shout from ahead stopped him.

"Daddy!"

A small centaur ran out to meet them, skidding to a halt next to Atreyu.

Harry blinked, surprised. In less than an hour, this whole experience was already teaching him a lot.

"Come. We must bring the game to the chefs. They will prepare it for the feast," Brookshire herded him past the scene. Harry glanced at the father and daughter centaur pair for another moment before following the beast.

"This has been our fifth trip out today. There are just shy of two dozen hunting squads, we catch as much as we can take then return. Once we drop off our load, we go back out. We will have extra food for tomorrow."

Nearing a small structure, more of a tent built along a line of trees, Harry mimicked the Minotaur's actions and put the moose in a pile of other still whole meat. There were several piles: moose, deer, hog, and turkeys, to name a few.

"A lot of creatures prefer their meat raw, but many would rather it cooked. There will be some of both available."

Harry nodded, relieved that he wouldn't be stuck with raw animal meat. He wasn't sure he could take all of it in one day. Instead he looked around the small village, surprised at the amount of huts and structures present.

"You did not expect this?" the Minotaur read his expression. Harry shook his head.

"You don't hide?"

Brookshire laughed.

"The human do not, why should we? Our numbers are fairly even; we live off the land more than they do, some more than others, but as long as we are apart there is not much conflict. They could wipe out us as easily as we could wipe out them."

Harry fell silent, mulling on the thought.

"The difference is, however... they set up large settlements. Cities with thousands of people in one area, it's easier to track them. We stay broken up, a village here, a village there. Spread out and secluded, but still close enough to call upon each other for help."

_They're thinking more logically than humans then, _Harry decided. _Or, in any case, more survival oriented._

Before anything else could be said, Bane walked over to the two creatures, followed shortly by the rest of the group. They gathered around, and Bane cleared his throat, effectively calling attention to himself.

"Good job. We were very successful today in our duties. Now, Harry, you are in need of shelter you said?" Harry nodded. "Is anyone willing to provide accommodations for our new friend? Or should I ask around."

Atreyu put his hand on the shoulder of the small centaur beside him. He sniffed, and Harry suspected if the centaur was taller he would be looking down at Harry with distain, instead of up. In any case his decision was clear, and he really didn't need to say anything. "There is no room with me. My family is enough."

The griffins both shook their heads. "As you know, we live back in the caves with the rest of our kind. They do not take to outsiders intruding on our property."

"Only neutral ground," Zappa agreed.

"He is too big to fit in my home," Griphook added.

Finally it was Brookshire that stepped forward. "I have extra room."

Bane nodded his head, clearly relieved.

"Thank you Brookshire. A very good job on your work today, you are all free to go until the ceremonies start."

That effectively got everyone to disband, going separate ways.

"Come Harry."

The person in question raised one inky brow, but followed the creature never-the-less. He was an unusually kind one, and after a short internal debate, Harry decided to call him on it.

"You always like this? Friendly and stuff?"

Brookshire laughed gruffly. It sounded bitter and dejected.

"I try, but it is hard. Most of my kinds, the Minotaur, are natural killers. I am one of select few."

"They're afraid."

The beast nodded.

"Yes. I go out of my way to treat people the same as I am you, but many are wary still, as you said. I'm a lot bigger than the majority of creatures, and my odd disposition leaves them confused."

"But I surpass you in both," Harry chanced.

He was faced with two dark eyes staring back at him, leading the way by practiced ease.

"Yes. It is a new experience. I feel as though I have found a kindred spirit."

Harry was taken aback at his companion's blunt nature. The corner of his mouth twitched, and he bowed his head.

"I'm relieved. I'm definitely in need of... trustworthy companions."

_This is all oddly convenient. Did they take pity on me, and set it up for Brookshire to be one of the first creatures I met? As reassurance? Or... guidance?_

Harry suspected that was the case, but he wasn't complaining. It was certainly a start.

They drew closer to a hut, not particularly big, but a cozy size. The doorway and roof were raised high, in comparison to most of the ones they had passed. Brookshire lifted the latch, swinging the wooden planked door easily open. With a rough motion, he shoved down a metal lever attached to the inside of the door, and Harry watched the thin metal bar spike into the ground, propping the door open.

Harry followed the Minotaur into the hut, where Brookshire moved about easily, pulling the thick burlap curtains on the glassless windows to the side, letting light filter in. They were in a decent sized room, clearly a sitting area. In the center was a deep set circle of stones, a few pieces of burnt wood still present underneath the metal grate set on top of it. Directly above the fire pit, in the center of the steeped roof, was a vent, set up like a pavilion where the center part of the roof was inches higher than where it should have been, but stretching over the open edges.

The walls were scantly furnished, wood stacked to one side of the door, stretching along the length of the wall. There was a thick pallet of cushions and blankets running widely along the wall opposite from the wood. It was clearly a large, makeshift couch. Two rooms went off of the main one, opposite of the door. One had a curtain of, what Harry guessed, deer skin. It was pinned up to the side, and Harry easily made out a small bedroom, occupied almost fully by the large bed and a small, rough made wardrobe. A small window sat above the bed, the thick cloth cover still hanging.

The other room lacked any cover in the doorway, and looked to be a small room of storage, Harry indentified several weapons: large swords, battle axes not unlike his own, though much smaller, long bows, arrows, and spears. He winced at the large mace hanging from the wall, not doubting what Brookshire's weapon of choice would be if he had to decide. Between the two doorways sat a large armchair, bigger than even Hagrid's.

Brookshire silently watched Harry study his new surroundings, giving him time to take it in. After a few minutes he spoke.

"It's not a lot, but its home. Enough for me."

Harry smiled absent mindedly, not knowing how terrifying that one action really was to someone else.

"It's nice. Cozy."

The Minotaur smiled, happy at the approval.

"You can probably guess where you will be," he continued, looking pointedly at the sitting spot in the main room. Harry nodded, and the Minotaur continued. "I'm sorry I do not have more, but we are rather forced to avoid attention from the humans. Many huts support full families, and they are not much bigger than this."

Harry waived off the apology.

"This is more than I would ever expect, given my abruptness and whatnot. You don't even know that much about me," he confessed, fully honest. "I'm sure it'll be perfect."

Brookshire nodded, once again pleased with the response.

"We have time before the ceremony. Why don't you tell me a bit about yourself?" the Minotaur asked, settling down in the large armchair. Harry fell easily onto his new bed, surprised at its comfort. He had set his axe to the side, propped against the wall.

He looked down. "About me, huh? Well... there's a lot to be said... but not much at this point in time. Let's just say I'm on a mission."

Brookshire nodded slowly, studying him. "Something that you don't want to share? Or something that's... too complicated to get into at the moment?"

Harry scratched the back of his head, wincing slightly at his claws. He then settled for rubbing the spot with the calloused flesh on his fingers.

"Too complicated. No offense, but I just met you. I don't know-"

"If you can trust me with the details?"

Harry shrugged, apologetically.

"It's nothing personal."

Brookshire waived a hand.

"I understand. I hope one day that you are able to share."

Harry studied the half-bull, half-man silently.

"Me too," he decided finally. There was a silence for a few moments, neither knowing how to continue. Finally Harry decided to turn the matter to another topic.

"Tell me more about the celebrations."

Brookshire grinned, clearly pleased to share his knowledge. He launched into a lengthy, yet thorough, explanation, describing the feast and different activities.

_Much Later That Night:_

Harry shook his head in wonderment, never before seeing, or even imagining, a drunken centaur. But there they were. Well over fifty of them, stumbling around and tripping over logs. He looked around, eyes falling to Atreyu and his daughter. The blonde centaur had drank very little, dedicating the time to his small family.

_If he didn't act so much like Malfoy,_ Harry thought, _I would like to get to know him._

He turned from the scene, wandering over to a small crowd. They were gathered around a circular clearing, watching the activities in the middle eagerly. Harry saw over everyone's heads easily.

Past done were the children's spars, and the archery competition, which had been open to all. Now it was adult's fighting. Little creatures stared on in awe as a vampire, dressed in loose black pants and a comfortably tight maroon top, expertly flicked the whip she held, drawing a line of blood across the wrist of her opponent, a faun.

Though roughly the same size, they were clearly both experienced fighters. The faun wielded a wide curved sword, a sailor's cutlass, expertly, ignoring the slight injury he had just received. He parried her next blow with his sword, swinging around to duck, sticking out one goat-resembling leg to swipe the vampire's feet from under her. She fell, but quickly rolled backwards right back into a standing position, recovering quicker than anyone would have expected. Crouching slightly, she jumped clear over the next swing, flipping over her opponent's head. Landing lightly she spun, gently easing the whip around his neck.

The faun yielded, and with a flick of her wrist, the whip unwound itself from the hybrid's neck, leaving only a red mark that was sure to bruise. The group started clapping as the pair shook hands and parted. He watched in interest as two centaurs stepped into the middle, neither using weapons. Instead, they used every parts of their bodies to fight, horse and human alike. So caught up in the action, he didn't even notice when Brookshire came to stand beside him.

"Care to try your skill?" the Minotaur startled Harry from the fight, as he looked to the beast. Harry grinned.

"You mean, against you?"

Brookshire nodded.

"Who else?"

Harry studied him for a moment before nodding. He was quickly adjusting to his new body, though still not completely. But what could it hurt?

"I'm game," he agreed. Brookshire bowed his head again, and the pair easily made their way to the front of the crowd due to their size. When the battle finally ended, both Harry and his opponent stepped into the circle, and the crowd stilled, sizing both of them up. As Brookshire took place at one end of the ring, slowly spinning the end of the mace in well oiled moves, Harry went to the opposite side, holding his large axe easily, as if it were a cricket bat. His mind flashed back to the embedded information.

There was no judge, no announcer, just the fighters and the audience. Harry saw Brookshire nod, and after a second he returned it.

They started circling each other, each waiting to make their move. Finally it was the Minotaur that gave in, smoothly swinging the mace outward. With hardly an effort, Harry parried the blow with his own weapon.

_He's testing me,_ he decided. There was no other excuse for the strike to be that light.

He returned the lunge, jabbing forward with the pointed tip of his axe. Brookshire grunted as the chain of his weapon wrapped around Harry's, whacking it aside.

The battle started in earnest, both fighters trading blow for blow. Harry wondered why Brookshire was still holding back, but after several minutes gave up on reading his opponent. If he didn't want to win, that wasn't his problem. Decision made, Harry ducked the spiked ball, reaching up so it wrapped around his axe again. With a quick tug, the weapon was ripped from the Minotaur's hand, and Harry quickly detangled it from his own, resting the weapon against the other's neck in a smooth motion.

Brookshire inclined his head, which Harry took as yielding. He lowered the axe, picking up the mace to return to his friend.

"You're very strong," Harry was complimented, after they shook hands. "I didn't stand a chance."

Harry shot his companion a glance, as they made their way out of the ring.

"You were holding back," he argued. Brookshire gave a gruff laugh, and Harry paused to look at him. The Minotaur looked surprised.

"You truly do not know your own strength. Every blow you dealt was stronger than anything I've ever faced before."

Harry looked down at the axe at his belt, before studying his hands.

"It felt like you were hardly trying."

Brookshire shook his head.

"Oh, I was trying alright. Like I said... I never stood a chance. You overpowered me from the first exchange."

"I thought you were testing me. I was holding back."

The Minotaur studied him intently, before recognition flashed across his eyes.

"You were," he decided finally. "I do not wish to see you at full strength. It'll be something for everyone to take heed of."

Harry frowned as his friend finally wandered off. He turned back to the fighting, watching distractedly.

"You're an interesting kid, you know that."

Harry turned to the new voice, needing to look up slightly at the form sitting on a branch.

"Have you been watching me?" he asked the vampire he recognized from the fight earlier. The whip was coiled at her waist, and she lounged easily against the base of the tree.

"A bit. We don't get many travelers, of any kind. Not unheard of, merely... odd."

"You're from this area?"

She nodded, her ruby hair falling past her shoulders in gentle waves. Her eyes, like most of her kind, were black.

"Rochelle," she introduced herself.

"Harry."

Rochelle shifted, so she was sitting sideways on the branch with her feet swinging in the air. Harry kept his silent study until Rochelle broke it.

"Never met a vampire before?"

Harry shook his head, and Rochelle smiled.

"Well then. What do you know about us?" she asked, eyes lit. Harry paused before shrugging.

"Just the myths."

Rochelle pouted.

"What, like we can't go in the sun or we don't have reflections? Maybe that we're allergic to garlic, right?"

He nodded, embarrassed. Rochelle shook her head.

"Humans. Always think they're right. I'm surprised so many creatures hear their tales."

Harry shifted at the comment, but listened silently as she continued, eyes sparkling. Clearly she loved putting people in their places.

"We're actually not so different from them, though many of my kind would disagree. We're physically stronger, we can heal ourselves almost instantly, we can fight with our minds as well as our bodies. And we need to drink blood to survive, of course... all that aside, though."

Harry studied her curiously. "All they suspect is just... imagination then?"

Rochelle nodded eagerly.

"Most humans have never even seen a vampire before, yet alone spoke with one. Those that have are most often killed, or left deranged. They go off what they've heard, or what seems logical to them."

Harry grinned, and it was Rochelle's turn to squirm at the row of sharp teeth.

"So, sunlight?"

The vampire shook her head.

"Our skin's sensitive, yes, but nothing a potion, or a bit of sun block perhaps, won't fix. It's a hassle though, you see? We prefer to avoid all that and indulge in the night."

"Reflections?"

"Faint," she said. "For most. The strongest and oldest of our kin don't have any; it's one of the few things humans are pretty close on. My own reflection is very hazy, almost gone. I'm not the oldest vampire out there, but I am fairly strong compared to most."

Harry sighed.

"Garlic?"

Rochelle looked at him directly, asking innocently, "Have you ever smelled garlic before?"

Confused Harry nodded. "Yeah, it's a real strong, spicy smell."

Rochelle nodded.

"Now imagine that scent, enhanced about 20 times more than the best _bloodhound_."

Harry winced.

"We aren't allergic to it; it's just overwhelming on our senses. We can block it out if we must, but... it's easier just to avoid it."

Harry nodded.

"Makes sense-"

A sudden cheering interrupted their conversation, and the pair looked over the crowd just in time to see the flourished ending of the fight. Rochelle clapped her hands excitedly.

"Oh, good job! Now it's my turn!"

She jumped off the branch, landing gracefully on the ground, before turning to Harry with a curtsey.

"I'll see you around then."

Harry blinked as she left, shaking his head.

This truly was an odd world.

* * *

Et fini! I've decided that if JK can have some mythological creatures, she can have them all. Hence the Minotaur's, and fauns, and griffins, and such. I've also decided that the characteristics of the vampires will be as they're portrayed in the books by Amelia Atwater-Rhodes. I find it much easier, and different, to write that way, no?

Any thoughts? Feelings? Ideas? Do feel free. I've had this done for a few days, I was just extremely reluctant to sit down and edit and stuff… so sorry.


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